Chapter Text
Dana Scully didn’t eat, as far as Mulder was concerned. Sure, he saw her have her tiny little dry salad for lunch, or the half of a light cream cheese bagel in the airport, but he never really saw her sit down and have a meal. There was the one time they went to get barbecue early on in their relationship, but ever since, Scully seemed to always be on some sort of diet. It drove him crazy – she was a doctor, for goodness sake! She should know better! Mulder was sick of listening to her whine about her headaches and exhaustion and then gripe at him for suggesting they get some milkshakes to perk her up because they were too heavy.
Really, his annoyance stemmed from concern. Scully didn’t have weight to lose, so why was she always dieting? Carbohydrates fueled the body, fat was important for nutrient absorption, and protein helped muscles grow and maintain. If Mulder, who slept through most of high school biology class, could recall that, surely a medical doctor could.
He watched Scully stir bee pollen into her low-fat, unflavored yogurt cup and grimaced. “Is that all you’re gonna eat?” he asked. It was the same thing she had been having every time they met up in his office in the hospital for lunch, and it still made him feel sick to even think about.
“Yes, I don’t like a heavy lunch,” Scully said breezily. She glanced up at him. “Are you not having lunch at all?”
Mulder shook his bag of sunflower seeds at her. “Same as yesterday, the day before, and every day you’ve known me since. Besides, there’s still coffee in the pot.”
She rolled her eyes. “Mulder, you can’t survive on sunflower seeds and coffee alone.”
“And you can on yogurt and bee pollen?”
“This is not all I eat.”
“Seems to be, lately.”
“You don’t exactly have dinner with me every night.”
Now Mulder rolled his eyes. “Like I’m not there three days of the week, at least!”
Scully sighed heavily, turning her spoon over in the now yellow-tinted yogurt. “I like to have this for lunch, okay? Just drop it.”
Drop it, Mulder did. But only for the time being. He was going to be over for dinner again tonight, because it was Thursday, and he could bring it up to Stella. There was no way she didn’t notice it too. She ate with Scully every single night, and Stella was one of the most observant people he knew. If this was bothering him, it had to be bothering her.
“What are we having tonight?”
“Stella wanted to try a recipe for vindaloo she found. I think she’s even getting off work a little early to make sure she has enough time to cook.”
Mulder cracked a grin. “And by ‘early’ you mean ‘on time’, right?”
Scully smiled back, which was a small relief. Even with his concern flaring into anger, Mulder didn’t want bad feelings between them. “Yes, she will leave on time.”
He nodded, and gnawed open a sunflower seed. He had never eaten vindaloo, because the idea of a vinegary, spicy potato curry didn’t appeal to him in the slightest. Maybe he could bring more sunflower seeds as backup. He wouldn’t want to offend Stella, though, so he would give it a try, if the smell was okay. If he really needed to, he would put a sandwich in his jacket to scarf down on the way home.
That evening, Mulder walked into Stella and Scully’s flat to all the windows open and Scully standing on a chair to fan a smoke alarm with an old medical journal.
“Hey, Mulder!” she called. “Don’t worry, nothing caught fire. I just don’t want the alarm to go off at all if I can help it.”
“So what’s burning?” he asked, secretly hoping it was the vindaloo so he wouldn’t have to eat any. Maybe they could order pizza instead.
“The naan,” Stella said, tossing a wad of black crisp into the trash. “I got a little ambitious because the vindaloo came out so well, but then I got distracted when Dana came home, and, well . . .” she gestured to the hazy air, which was luckily clearing out with the cross breeze.
“Say no more,” Mulder laughed. “I am very familiar with getting distracted by Scully.”
Scully smiled at him, taking the hand he offered to step back on the ground. She gave him a kiss before going back to Stella to help finish bringing food to the table. Mulder hung up his jacket finally, double checking his sunbutter and jelly was still in its plastic baggie in his pocket, then joined them at the table. Stella served herself a heaping portion, sprinkling it with extra chili. That was a good sign; she always made things mild for Mulder’s sake. Scully’s too, but she wouldn’t admit it, and her tolerance was higher than Mulder’s, though that wasn’t saying much. Scully took barely a ladel-ful, but Mulder bit his cheek against any comment. He glanced quickly to Stella, who had pursed her lips while looking at Scully’s bowl, which seemed to confirm his suspicions. He figured he couldn’t judge Scully too much for her portion, though, when he took about the same amount.
The aroma was pleasant, which helped assuage some of his nerves. He watched Stella take a bite and smile before adding even more chili. Scully also took a small bite, eyes closing as she relished the taste. Unfortunately this was not helpful; they both were far less picky than he was. Cautiously, Mulder gathered some curry and potato on his spoon, and put it in his mouth.
Tart, spicy, savory, and so many fragrant spices he could hardly differentiate them. Mulder forced himself to swallow, not even chewing the potato, and drank half his water. He really felt bad about this. If he wasn’t so picky, he would probably be able to appreciate the time Stella spent on what tasted like a complex dish. It was clearly well made since she and Scully were enjoying it. He set to focusing on the conversation instead while he chopped all the potato chunks in his bowl into smaller and smaller pieces.
“Mulder, what do you think of the vindaloo?” Stella asked him.
Fuck.
“Uh, well . . .” he tried to come up with a response that wouldn’t make him sound ungrateful or rude. “I appreciate you making it a spice level I can handle.”
Stella smiled at him. “I try my hardest to not kill my guests when they’re over. Or my girlfriend.”
Scully rolled her eyes, also smiling. Then she glanced over to Mulder’s portion, which hadn’t changed size. “You don’t like it, do you?” she asked a little sadly. Mulder didn’t know why she was sad. She wasn’t the one who made it.
“No . . . sorry, Stella. You know me – I have the palate of a second grader.”
Stella shook her head. “It’s not a bother. One of these days, I’ll find something you like to eat. Can I get you something else?”
“That’s okay, I wasn’t very hungry tonight anyways,” Mulder lied. “But, let me help you clean up.”
He brought the dishes to the sink while Scully put the food away, then helped Stella with the dishes. Scully never did the dishes, if she could help it. She said the feeling of wet food and the sound of plates clinking together drove her crazy, so she took on other chores to make up for it. Mulder rolled up his sleeves to scrub while Stella dried.
“I have something I wanted to talk to you about,” he said quietly, so Scully wouldn’t overhear them while she was picking a movie in the living room.
“What’s that?” Stella asked.
“I’m worried about Scully. You’ve noticed how little she eats, right?”
Stella’s mouth pressed to a thin line, just like it had earlier. “Yes. She claims to just not need very much, but I’m not sure I believe her.”
“I’ve been with her for a while and worked with her longer. It’s always been like this, but I think she’s getting stricter. I know she eats healthy, for the most part, but I don’t think it’s good for her how little she eats.”
Stella nodded, not saying anything. He waited for her to absorb the information and think it all through. Stella was thorough like that – always going through every possible option and outcome before she decided her course of action. It was what made her so effective in investigations.
“We should bring it up to her, soon,” Stella told him. Mulder nodded.
“Now?”
“No, we should discuss it a little more. Give her an actionable plan, if she listens to us.”
The ‘if’ carried a lot of weight in that statement, Mulder knew, but he also knew Stella was right. They finished the dishes in silence, before joining Scully for the movie she picked. Mulder’s stomach growled, and he was glad he had his sandwich to eat on his way home.
. . .
Fox Mulder didn’t eat, as far as Dana was concerned. Mostly, she saw him drink: coffee, orange juice, diet soda, iced tea – anything, Dana assumed, to wash down his constant sunflower seeds. She didn’t know how he functioned. Mulder was the most athletic person she knew, and she could guarantee if he wasn’t at home or in the office, then he’d be doing laps at the pool, running in the park, finding a pickup basketball game, or swinging a baseball bat. It just didn’t make sense for someone of his build and level of activity to eat so little, and so little protein on top of that. He wouldn’t listen to her about trying other things to expand his options so he could get some more variety, and he certainly didn’t entertain her when Dana told him his frequent bouts of illness and stomach troubles likely stemmed from his diet.
Simply put, she didn’t know how he was alive, much less constantly on the move. It was starting to concern her, as she had seen very little change or improvement in his food habits over the years.
It was something she needed to confront with him, sooner rather than later. It was just a matter of figuring out how. Maybe it was something she should bring up with Stella. She didn’t spend as much time with Mulder as Dana did, but she still saw him often, and would have surely taken notice of this.
He met her in the morning for coffee, as was their routine for Saturday mornings. Stella was working, preparing for an audit, and Dana appreciated having time set aside to spend with Mulder that wasn’t at work. She ordered her usual – skim milk macchiatto with just a touch of splenda – while Mulder ordered his – black with enough sugar to kill a horse. Neither of them got any food. Dana frowned at Mulder as he scanned the display of baked goods with little interest.
“You don’t want a sandwich or anything?” she asked, gesturing to the larger menu. “I know you ran this morning.”
Mulder shrugged, shooting her a disarming grin. “Nah, none of it looks very good to me.”
“But you need to eat something,” Dana insisted. “Your blood sugar is going to be too low after working out.”
“That’s why I put so much in my coffee,” he said with another shrug.
Dana ground her teeth. There was a deep-seated jealousy she had for Mulder’s athletic talent. Try as she might, she could never get herself to love exercise the way he did. She did what she needed to, but running around the hospital usually took care of her step-count, and wiped her out enough that the thought of joining Mulder and Stella at the pool nearly brought her to exhausted tears. She wished she could just wake up and work out, and then dismiss breakfast without a care, but Dana just wasn’t built of the same stuff as Mulder. So, she maintained her weight through her diet, and skipped out on the cream cheese pastry calling her name from the cafe display.
Mulder found them a table with an umbrella outside. It was a rare sunny morning in London, and they were both soaking it up as much as possible. “We should take a walk around the park nearby,” Mulder said even as they sat down. “The clouds aren’t supposed to roll in until the afternoon.”
Dana sipped her coffee, hoping it was just a caffeine craving causing the tension behind her eyes. “You literally ran two miles this morning.”
“I ran three kilometers, Scully,” Mulder said with a teasing grin. “How long have we lived in London? Everyone will know we are still Americans if you keep using the Imperial.”
Dana rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh. “Either way, you ran, but you still want to go for a walk?”
“An easy, casual stroll in the sun with my femme on my arms. What part of that am I not supposed to enjoy?”
Dana faked a put-upon sigh even as her skin warmed and her heart fluttered. It was honestly ridiculous how easily he still got to her after all these years. “Fine, I suppose we can do that. It is a beautiful day.”
Mulder stood and extended his hand. “If we are out long, I’ll buy you lunch,” he promised as she stood.
“Don’t you mean dinner?”
Mulder grinned at her.
They didn’t end up going out for lunch, as their walk brought them close to Dana’s flat. Stella was only going to be working a half day, so she was expected home soon. Mulder suggested they stop at her place and wait for Stella to arrive home so the three of them could spend time together, and Dana, who’s shoes were wearing uncomfortably because they were newer and she hadn’t expected such a long walk, gladly agreed.
“Want a snack?” Dana asked as she kicked off her shoes by the front door. Mulder thought for a second.
“Um, got an apple?”
Thank God, Dana thought. “Yep! Want something to go with it?”
“No, that should be enough for me.”
Dana tried to not show her disappointment as she went to grab their food. She figured she could have an apple as well. Normally she had almond butter to go with it – no peanut butter was kept in the house for risk of Mulder’s allergy – but she didn’t want to have any if he didn’t. So she sliced two apples for them to share while they waited for Stella to come home. Dana watched carefully as Mulder picked out a slice and cautiously bit into it. Fruit was hit or miss for him, but he had eaten apples before without issue. She tried to contain her sigh of relief as he finished the slice and went for another. Sugary black coffee and a piece of fruit, surely the stuff to keep an active adult in good shape, she thought bitterly.
Stella arrived shortly after, hair mussed from the wind that had picked up and looking tired even from her half day. “Don’t let me go into the office tomorrow,” she told Dana. “The audit is out of my control at this point.”
“If it was up to me, you wouldn’t have gone today and wouldn’t go Monday, either,” Dana replied.
Stella smiled at her. “Well, at the very least I am entirely yours tomorrow. How are you, Mulder? Have a nice run this morning?”
Mulder nodded. “Weather has been great for it. I’m thinking I’ll try for the next London marathon.”
Dana frowned over her shoulder at him. “And what, collapse halfway through? You don’t eat enough to do a marathon.”
Both her partners fell silent, each looking slightly uncomfortable. “Actually, that was something we wanted to talk to you about,” Mulder said, somewhat stiffly. Stella nodded.
“Yes. We’ve both been concerned about your eating habits.”
“My eating habits?” Dana repeated, dumbfounded.
Stella approached her and guided Dana to sit with her on the couch, Stella’s hand on her back. “Mulder and I have both noticed that you always seem to stick to a very intense, restrictive diet. We worry that you aren’t eating enough.”
“I’ve seen you eat a normal human portion exactly once,” Mulder said. “And that was probably six years ago now.”
Indignant, embarrassed rage flared hot in Dana’s chest. “Why do you watch what I eat so closely?” It was a stupid thing to ask and she knew it. Besides, she had been monitoring Mulder’s eating habits for years.
“Because we care about you!” Mulder reacted, matching her energy.
“Because we are worried about you,” Stella cut in, much calmer. Her palm was grounding on Dana’s back. “You’re a grown woman with a physically demanding job. You shouldn’t be restricting how much you eat.”
Mulder crossed his arms. “Especially the amount you do. It’s getting to be a problem.”
Dana couldn’t help the scoff that scorched out of her mouth, acidic and angry. “You’re in no place to tell me I don’t eat enough. Before that half an apple, when was the last time you ate?”
Mulder frowned at her, then glared at the floor, clearly trying to remember.
“Exactly,” Dana said, a touch too triumphantly. “You’re being hypocritical.”
With a shake of his head, Mulder tried to barrel on. “Scully, that’s not the point and you know it. I don’t eat because I forget to and am probably one of the pickiest people on the planet. You don’t eat because you’re convinced you’ll get fat, which is just ridiculous!"
The heat of her rage rose into her face at that. How could he possibly know that? Dana had never told another person that. She was sure it wasn’t even true. It wasn’t important, she was just a woman looking to maintain her weight and seek the healthiest option she could. She was just trying to make good decisions for her body. Mulder was out of line suggesting such a thing. It was rude, and offensive, and presumptuous, and-
“Dana,” Stella said gently, shifting so Dana was looking at her instead of Mulder, “whatever your motivation, we have cause for concern. Mulder and I thought it might be best if you spoke to a dietitian. None of us are in a position to decide the best route for you, but someone who has studied nutrition could get you on a good track.”
“So I’m not qualified to make decisions on what goes into my body anymore?” Dana lashed out. She didn’t like this, the scrutiny and judgment, especially not from the people closest to her. It was the hardest thing about being with Stella and Mulder; their individual talents for perception ran so deep that together Dana frequently felt flayed open, unable to keep any secrets for herself.
“No, you’re not,” Mulder decided for her flatly. “Yesterday, you ate a banana for lunch. How is that enough? You need to talk to someone, and you aren’t going to listen to us about it.”
Dana balled her hands into fists, trying to fight down the instinct to tell Mulder off. Deep, deep down she knew he was right. Mulder never lied to her. But when he laid an ugly truth out like this, sometimes she wished he did.
“It’s your decision in the end,” Stella told her, “but we think it would help you quite a bit.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to sort through her options. She didn’t want to meet with anyone, but at least they were suggesting something as reasonable as professional nutritional advice. The thought of having to describe what she ate day to day made her stomach try to claw its way up her throat, though. Dana knew she wouldn’t be able to handle staring down a stranger and doing that.
“Fine,” she finally said. “I’ll talk to a dietitian. On one condition.”
“Yes?” Stella asked.
“Mulder meets with them, too.”
Mulder sighed heavily, like she had made some unreasonable demand. He opened his mouth to respond, but Stella beat him to it.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
“What?” Mulder spluttered. Stella turned to him, eyes cool and hard.
“Dana’s right that you have your own issues. Her comment about collapsing during a marathon is not unfounded. I think if you both met with someone, it could do you each a world of good.” She smiled softly at them each, trying to reassure them. “I will pick a dietitian for you to meet together. That way it’s mostly coming from a neutral place. Do we have a deal?”
Dana nodded. She and Stella both looked expectantly at Mulder. He rubbed his forehead before throwing up his hands in defeat. “Fine. I’ll go, too.”
“Then it’s settled,” Stella said easily. She gave Dana a hug and kissed her cheek before standing to do the same for Mulder. “I’m very proud of you both.”
Dana tried to smile back, but found it hard. She met Mulder’s eyes and saw the same dread in him. Well, at least if this went terribly, Mulder would be with her. Then she could rub it in his face.